Three Doctors and a Baby
by NoPondInTheForest
Summary: "The Day of the Doctor" rewrite with Rose and a baby. That is all.
1. Chapter 1

**For UnseenWatcher.**

 **So I was in the middle of drafting my next multi-chapter when a lovely commenter on AO3 got this idea stuck in my brain, and I just had to stop and write it. All you need to know going in is that Rose has married Eleven and they have a baby daughter. (And if anyone would like to find out just how all of that came about, see my previous story, "The Aftermath of Forever".)**

* * *

"Draught," said the Doctor without looking up, once the roar of the motorbike's engine faded.

 _Snap_ , went Clara's fingers, followed by the _slam_ of the TARDIS' doors. Shifting Suzy on his lap, he kissed her breeze-ruffled hair as he turned the page of their book.

"'Advanced Quantum Mechanics'?" Clara tossed her helmet on a jump-seat, boots clacking loudly as she approached. "That's your story of choice for an eight-month-old baby? Really?"

The Doctor met his friend's amused eyes. "She's _nine_ months now. And she likes this, I'll have you know."

With a grin, Clara nodded toward Suzy. "Yeah, I can see that. She's just...eating it up."

Glancing down, the Doctor grimaced when he found his daughter contentedly gnawing on the book's thick corner, one page crinkled up in a small, damp fist. She squawked in protest as he carefully extracted it from her grasp.

"You're getting so big," Clara cooed at her, crouching down to the baby's eye level and brushing a hand over her soft brown curls. "And prettier all the time."

Showing all eight teeth in a open-mouthed smile, Suzy stretched a hand out to grab hold of a button on Clara's leather jacket. Clara leaned away gingerly, and held up two index fingers for Suzy to grip instead. "So, did we decide on a plan for tonight?"

"Yes, there's this lovely spot on the moon that Rose and I like these days. Private tables each under their own atmospheric bubble, great for earth-gazing. Also great because if little miss here is less than quiet, it doesn't matter."

"Will there be cocktails?"

"Of course."

"Love it." Clara clapped Suzy's hands together playfully. "Where is Rose, by the way?"

"Having a kip." His eyes fell shut in a long blink. "Or she was, anyway," he went on, smiling as he found his wife's mental presence was bright and alert. "She hardly slept last night, with Suzy up wanting to nurse practically every hour. Growth spurt, I think. Or teething," he added with a grin; in spite of Clara's best efforts to distract her, Suzy had a fistful of her jacket again and was yanking it toward her open mouth, her fine little brows drawn together in the sort of relentless determination that could only be Time Lord/Tyler genetics at work.

"So how's the job?" he asked, swallowing a laugh at Clara's futile attempts to escape the baby's iron-fisted grasp. "Teach anything good?"

"No-"

Out of nowhere the room tilted and Clara cut off with an _oof_ as her backside hit the floor. The Doctor held Suzy tight with one arm and the jump-seat with another, his eyes seeking the Time Rotor, which was strangely silent. A beeping alarm sounded, then all the monitors lit up.

 _TARDIS interference detected._

Clara clambered to her feet, gripping the back of his seat for balance. "What's happening?"

"Whoa, whoa," he said as the ship rocked roughly, cuddling Suzy closer. "We're taking off. But the engines aren't going."

"Then why are we moving?" called Rose, and he looked over. She was clutching the catwalk's railing as she made her way to the stairs.

"Not sure. But if you'll come get Suzy, I'll find out."

A minute later the Doctor stood unsteadily at the console, switching the monitor to an outside view. "We're in the air?"

The floor's irregular lurching hardly slowed him down as he dashed off to confirm it.

"Don't!" he heard Rose gasp out, before rough wind in his ears and the deafening whirr of helicopter blades commanded his full attention, answering one question but raising up loads of others. His gaze panned upward. Long lines of cable, moored to the expected helicopter...its UNIT insignia clear as day.

 _UNIT_. Jaw jutting, he angrily snatched up the nearby emergency phone and jabbed its buttons with a thumb. Bloody UNIT. Bloody UNIT and their bloody presumptive ways, stealing his TARDIS, endangering his family-

The Doctor was well on his way to a full-fledged snit when Rose's telepathic shout startled him out of it. _Doctor! Get back inside!_

Phone at his ear, he twisted to peer back inside and winced as he caught a glimpse of his wife's pale, frightened face. "Sorry," he mouthed to her, shuffling backward in an attempt to obey, but the cord only allowed for a meager half-step and oh, hello, someone was answering.

"Hello? Kate Stewart's phone."

"Yes, hello, this is the Doctor," he said, grasping the doorframe with his free hand as the Thames wound below like a shimmering snake. "I need to speak to Kate. Now."

"Oh, hold on. Excuse me. Ma'am. Ma'am!"

A lot of rustling around, and at last, Kate's pleasant voice. "Doctor, hello. We found the TARDIS in a field. I'm having it brought in."

Wind rumbled like thunder in the phone's small mouthpiece. "No kidding," replied the Doctor sardonically.

"Where are you?"

In lieu of answering, the Doctor aimed the phone up toward the helicopter.

"Oh, my god! Oh, Doctor, I'm so sorry. We had no idea you were still in there. Come on."

Overhead, the helicopter's blades tilted, whirring into an abrupt change of course. His stomach swooped and the world tipped and there was a dizzy rush of noise and air, and the next thing he knew he was dangling from the doorway, Clara's hands tight round his ankles and his wife's panic in his head.

Also, a voice in his ear. "Doctor, can you hear me? I don't think he can hear me."

"Next time, would it kill you to knock?"

"I'm having you taken directly to the scene. Doctor, hello, are you okay?"

"Whoa! I'm just going to pop you on hold." He dropped the phone, and with a twist (plus a considerable amount of abdominal strength), he lifted and grabbed at the base of the TARDIS.

"Doctor!" Clara cried out, as he tugged his feet from her grasp.

"I'm fine!" he shouted, projecting as much remorse as he could muster to his wife. "We're just about to land."

The cold, clenched fist of Rose's fear loosened, giving way to something hot and sharp which outright rebuffed his apologies. The Doctor sighed, more than willing to grovel, but it would have to wait. Kate was just below, side by side with another woman in a white coat -oh, Trafalgar Square, interesting- and a squadron of uniformed UNIT soldiers. In times past, such a sight would have him perking up a bit (such a fuss as all this practically promised fun) but these days things were different. Aside from safe trips and visits with friends, he and Rose had agreed that until their daughter was grown, the only path for them was the slow path. No missions, not unless it was truly dire.

Yet only a few months in and here he was, right where he'd sworn he'd never be, about to plunge down the middle of an army along with his wife and child.

 _Take it easy, Doctor_ , he told himself, as anger flared in his chest all over again. Nobody's running around in panic. Perhaps Kate simply needs advice. Something complicated for the humans but ridiculously simple for him, something he could drag out just long enough to give Rose time to calm down and not murder him.

"Atten - shun!" called a soldier. Releasing his grasp on his ship, the Doctor dropped the last few feet to the ground, immediately saluting Kate and the uniformed officers.

"Why am I saluting?" he muttered, lowering his hand. Behind him, the TARDIS bumped down and Clara hopped out, door creaking as she pulled it shut.

Kate rushed over, looking as embarrassed as he'd ever seen her. "Doctor," she said, as the unknown woman came to stand at her side, "as Chief Scientific Officer, may I extend the official apologies of UNIT."

The Doctor gave her reproachful look and a finger wag. "Kate Lethbridge Stewart, a word to the wise. As I'm sure your father would have told you, I don't like being picked up."

"Unless it's by Rose," quipped Clara under her breath.

"I'm acting on instructions direct from the throne," said Kate, handing him a small envelope. The Doctor flipped it over, frowning at the red wax seal on the back. "Sealed orders from her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth the First."

"The Queen?" Clara blinked at it. "The First? Sorry, Elizabeth the First?"

"Her credentials are inside," Kate explained. Warily, the Doctor inspected the small note, turning it over, and began to dig a thumbnail into the seal.

He was not disappointed when Kate stalled him. "No. Inside." Heels clicking, she turned and headed for the steps of the National Gallery.

"Wait," called the Doctor, after a moment's hesitation. He couldn't just...swan off, not without a word to his wife. But why, oh why, couldn't this be regarding some anomaly, or a nice little invasion? Rose was already upset enough, the last thing she needed was to have his eons old indiscretion thrown in her face too. As far as dodgy decisions went, whatever had happened with the Virgin Queen was one of his dodgiest, probably. Didn't quite remember. But the stone in his gut told him that everything he never cared to know about it was about to be made quite clear.

"Doctor?" Kate was waiting.

"Ah..." He inclined his head toward the TARDIS. "I'll just be a moment." With a fortifying breath, he opened the door and slipped through, quickly slamming it before Clara could follow.

Rose was waiting on the ramp just inside, Suzy at her feet. The baby stood there on chubby legs, gripping the railing -her new favourite trick- and she let out a happy squeal when she saw her daddy.

"Look at you, big girl!" he exclaimed with a grin, scooping her up to kiss her soft cheeks.

"Da," she said, in her sweet baby voice, placing one palm on his cheek to intensify their mental connection, a wordless demand for his full attention. He chuckled.

A throat cleared pointedly, and the Doctor schooled his face into contriteness before meeting his wife's eyes. "Ehm. I'm sorry about earlier. It was, well. Stupid."

"Stupid, exactly," she agreed vehemently. "And later, you're gonna explain to me why a man with a wife and baby daughter doesn't pull crazy stunts like that, ability to regenerate or no." Rose sighed, rubbing her temples. "Anyway, let's leave it for now. What's going on out there?"

The Doctor shifted Suzy into his left arm and handed Rose the envelope. "UNIT's called me in, not sure why yet. But, well...it has to do with Elizabeth the First. This note is from her."

Rose took in the waxy royal seal, face darkening. ""M I allowed to open it?"

"Well, Kate Stewart seemed to believe it best I see Elizabeth's 'credentials' first, whatever that means. They're in the National Gallery."

"All right," she said, after a moment's consideration. "Let's go. Kate's probably wondering...and I can't wait to meet her, really."

The Doctor froze. "What? No."

"'No?'" Rose crossed her arms. "Oi. As your wife, don't you think I have the right to know why this woman -who may or may not have been some sort of old flame of yours- is sending you a love letter?"

"'Love letter?'" he echoed, nose curling. "This isn't a love letter, it's sealed orders, and she's not my... Rose, you know I don't _do_ that. No way was there any... any 'flaming' involved. And it's not that I don't want you along. Our infant daughter, on the other hand? Not so much."

"'S not like it's dangerous; it's just the National Gallery." Pushing Elizabeth's note back into his free hand, Rose wiped her fingers on her jeans. "And you trust Kate Stewart. You can surprise her, show off your gorgeous little girl. You love that."

Unsure, he sat Suzy in the crook of his left elbow and looked her over, smoothing down her pink-flowered dress. His baby girl was especially sweet in it, her cheeks rosy, the outfit flattering her fair complexion and honey-coloured curls. Suzy beamed at him, as if she knew her daddy was admiring her, those large, bright brown eyes of hers so like her mother's. It was impossible not to smile at the little darling, even though she was not-so-gently grabbing at his nose.

"Did you see that I painted her toenails this morning?" Rose held up Suzy's bare foot. "To match her dress."

Oh, that _was_ adorable, those teensy little nails dotting the tips of her chubby toes with bright pink, and-

A snicker. A rather victorious-sounding one at that, though Rose met his sharp look with innocent solemnity.

The Doctor sighed. "Alright, alright, you win. But if there's anything here I perceive as dangerous, it's off to the TARDIS for you two. Deal?"

Rose saluted, and when he rolled his eyes she laughed. He held his hand out for hers and she threaded their fingers together, warm and strong, and as they smiled into each other's faces pride and wellbeing filled him. It was brilliant, having a family. Best team he could ever wish for.

Said family in tow, he exited the TARDIS, into a breeze that was far gentler now that the helicopter had gone.

"Kate Stewart," he said, hiding his amusement as the eyes of the normally unflappable CSO popped wide, locking onto the baby in his arms. (Alright, yes, this was a bit fun.) "I'd like to introduce my wife, Rose Tyler."

Kate blinked, managing to drag her gaze from the baby to Rose. "Lovely to meet you," she said, recovering enough to return Rose's smile. Behind her, on the steps to the Gallery, the dark-haired woman in the long scarf silently watched, puffing long and deep on her inhaler.

"And this is our daughter, Susan." The Doctor jostled her to elicit a giggle, and he leveled Kate with a serious look. "Nine months old, just beginning to stand on her own. As you might imagine, her mother and I would prefer she at least be able to run properly before having her along on any sort of mission. So for future reference, Kate Stewart, phone first."

"I understand," said Kate, on an exhaled breath. Nodding at her, the Doctor motioned for her to lead the way. The bespectacled brunette shrank back against the railing as they passed her on their way up the steps.

"She's beautiful," he heard gasped out behind him. Pausing, the Doctor looked back. He wasn't sure if the compliment was directed toward his wife or his daughter, but what did it matter? She was right, either way.

"I know. What's your name?"

Her mouth opened, and she blinked a few times before giving a rather strangled answer.

"Osgood."

The Doctor smiled. "Good name. Nice scarf."

* * *

The National Gallery was impressive, all parquet flooring and dizzyingly high ceilings, its smaller exhibits enclosed in cases of polished glass. A few were intriguing enough to catch his eye, but it was more fun to watch Rose, her red Converse squeaking as she strolled along a few steps ahead of him, alongside Kate. Her energy low-key and her smile disarming, she chatted with the older woman, typically determined to make her feel at ease.

"I've heard so much about your father, you know," said Rose as they turned a corner. "The Doctor's told me stories about their time together- he's really very fond of him."

Kate smiled, the line of her shoulders relaxing a little. "My father was quite fond of the Doctor as well."

"That right? Said that a lot, did he?"

The older woman took in Rose's playful grin, and her smile grew. "Well, perhaps he didn't often put it quite like that."

A hint of pink tongue appeared, and the Doctor knew the conversation had taken the exact turn Rose hoped for. "Oh, do tell. All I ever get is the Doctor's side and I know he skews things. For example, that time he was supposed to address the palace? I just know his reason for running off wasn't-"

"Hey," said the Doctor, loud enough that it echoed in the narrow corridor. "That's rude, talking about me when I'm right here."

No one paid him any mind, and Clara dashed ahead to join their conversation. "Wait," she said to Kate, squeezing in next to Rose. "How did your dad know the Doctor?"

"He worked for us, for UNIT, back in the 1970's. He never told you that?"

Clara turned, walking backwards so she could stare him down. "You had a job?"

"He had to, he was stuck on Earth," Rose cut in, before he could say a word. "Well. Exiled here." From over her shoulder she tossed a grin his way.

Clara looked delighted. "Oh my god, you were exiled-"

"Stop it," he hissed, and covered Suzy's innocent little ears. "Yes, I was exiled, but what Rose won't mention is the part where they pleaded for me to come back home afterward so they could make me their President. Fickle bunch, the Time Lords. Now stop telling tales about me in front of my daughter."

Rose slowed to link her arm with his. "You mean, unless it's about how brilliant you are."

"I am brilliant," he argued, pouting, but leaning into her nonetheless. "I even have fans, hello. Did you not see the lady in the scarf?"

Snickering, Rose kissed his cheek and Suzy's head as they passed through a doorway into a large room, its towering white walls dotted with paintings. Directly before them was a large one on a stand, draped over with a cloth. Kate halted them before it.

"Elizabeth's credentials, Doctor," she announced, tugging the cloth away.

Every sound went static, every sight blurred but that of the painting before him- no, not a painting. A window to the past, a technicolor slice of memory that he'd buried deep, like thousands of others just like it. A Citadel, a fire, chaos, destruction. Pain and death.

A War.

Clara's voice pierced the fog. "But, but that's not possible."

Distantly, the Doctor felt Rose stroking his arm, was aware of her heavy concern, but he couldn't tear his eyes from the painting. "No more."

"That's the title," said Kate.

"I know the title."

Kate tucked her short blonde hair behind an ear. "Also known as Gallifrey Falls."

"This painting doesn't belong here," he said, "not in this time or place."

"Obviously," murmured Clara.

Rose palmed his cheek softly, encouraging him to look at her. "Love, what is it?"

He swallowed. "It's the fall of Arcadia, Gallifrey's second city."

"But how is it doing that?" said Clara, stretching a cautious hand toward it. "How is that possible? It's an oil painting in 3D."

"Time Lord art. Bigger on the inside. A slice of real time, frozen."

"Elizabeth told us where to find it," Kate explained. "And its significance."

A whimper, and Suzy laid her head against his chest. With a flash of guilt, the Doctor realised he'd been broadcasting his distress unfiltered. He tossed up a hasty mental barrier and began to rub her back, shushing and swaying, blanketing their link with comfort and reassurance.

"You okay?" asked Rose quietly, her hand on his shoulder.

The Doctor met her gaze, continuing to sway with their daughter. "He was there."

Understanding filled her eyes.

"Who was?" Clara asked.

"Me," he said. "The other me. The one I don't talk about."

A frown creased her forehead. "I don't understand."

He sighed, focused on conjuring up enough comfort for Suzy to block out the pain behind his words. "I've had many faces, many lives. I don't admit to all of them. There's one life I've tried very hard to forget. He was the Doctor who fought in the Time War, and that was the day he did it. The day I did it. The day he killed them all. The last day of the Time War. The war to end all wars between my people and the Daleks. And in that battle there was a man with more blood on his hands than any other, a man who would commit a crime that would silence the universe. And that man was me."

Clara sucked a breath and turned to Kate. "But the Time War's over. Why have you brought us here to look at a painting?"

"The painting only serves as Elizabeth's credentials, proof that the letter is from her. It's not why you're here."

With dread, the Doctor handed the note to Rose. She gave him a small, reassuring smile, then broke the seal and unfolded the paper. From over her shoulder, he skimmed the elegant script.

 _My dearest love, I hope the painting known as Gallifrey Falls will serve as proof that it is your Elizabeth who writes to you now. You will recall that you pledged yourself to the safety of my kingdom. In this capacity I have appointed you as curator of the Under Gallery, where deadly danger to England is locked away. Should any disturbance occur within its walls, it is my wish that you be summoned. God speed, gentle hus-_

 _Gentle HUSBAND?_

Oh, this was so, so much worse than he'd thought it would be. The Doctor twitched, debating snatching it from Rose's fingers before she could read those last two words.

Too late. "'Gentle husband!'" Rose turned on him, aghast. "Oh my god, you married her?!"

He held up Suzy between them, like a little baby shield. "No!" he said helplessly, voice pitching high. "Yes! I don't know! It's all...foggy, like I've told you before!"

Rose breathed deep and visibly shook herself. "Yeah. Yeah, I know. It's all right, I'm not angry with you. I mean, I guess we don't know the whole story, and it was a long time ago, before we..."

"It didn't mean anything," he said earnestly, loving her more than ever. "It couldn't have. You know that."

"Yeah." A small smile appeared on her lips, one he was so happy to see that he leaned in and kissed it, hard.

Then he held up the note before Kate. "What happened?"

"Easier to show you."

* * *

A metal door lowered behind them, sealing them all in, and once again the Doctor found himself face to face with another painting.

It was done in oil this time, its origin human, but he did not much prefer it to the Time Lord art.

No one said a word. Clara's gaze was fully on Rose, who stared at the painting of his prior self, in period attire, alongside the Queen. Deep red splotches stained her cheeks.

"This way," said Kate, all business, as she pulled on the painting to reveal another door. "Welcome to the Under Gallery. This is where Elizabeth the First kept all art deemed too dangerous for public consumption."

Thrilled to have that painting out of sight, the Doctor crouched to scoop a handful of sand from the floor.

"Stone dust," he said, noting the long rows of sheet-draped stone statues.

Kate paused. "Is it important?"

"In twelve hundred years I've never stepped in anything that wasn't."

A strangled noise, and the Doctor turned to the woman who'd made it. "Oi, you. Osgood. Are you science-y?"

"Oh, er, well, er, yes." She came closer, cheeks flushing.

"Good. Thought so. I could tell, you know. You look smart."

She stared at him, mouth open, as he sifted his fistful of grit into her cupped palms. "Um, thank you. Really?"

"Get a team," interrupted Kate, her tone authoritative. "Analyse the stone dust. Inhaler!"

"Although," the Doctor went on thoughtfully, watching Osgood rush off, "her lab-coat sort of gave it away. Love a lab-coat. Quite science-y...oh, _and_ Doctor-y, eh? Why have I never realised that?" He gave himself an appraising glance. "Rose, what do you think of me in a lab-coat? And a stethoscope, perhaps? Foxy _and_ appropriate, I'd say; I wouldn't have to go about explaining myself all the time."

"Doctors only dress like that on telly," Rose informed him. "You could do scrubs, though."

Clara snorted, sharing a sly glance with his wife as they passed into another large room. "Oh, yes please. Get him some with little bananas."

"Or little bow-ties," replied Rose, and they burst into giggles.

The Doctor huffed. "They do so wear lab coats," he muttered to Suzy, as a glass case caught his eye. "Look, sweetheart." He bounced her a little as he poked a hand in the case. "A fez." Suzy stilled as he plopped it on her head, and reached a chubby hand up to touch it. "You look so pretty!"

Suzy smiled, and to his surprise, left the fez on. "Like father, like daughter," commented Rose, watching them with a fond smile.

His smile abruptly faded as they entered yet another room. All along the walls were paintings, more 3D art from his homeworld. The protective glass on all of them had been shattered, shards all over the floor.

A white-coated scientist rushed over to Kate. "As you instructed, nothing has been touched."

"This is why we called you in," Kate told the Doctor.

"3D again," added Clara.

"Interesting," he said, and caught the fez as Suzy squirmed, knocking it off her head.

Rose came over and Suzy whinged, reaching for her mother. "What's interesting?" asked Rose, as she took the baby from him and cuddled her.

"Look, love, at the shatter pattern. The glass on all these paintings has been broken from the inside."

"As you can see, all the paintings are landscapes," Kate added. "No figures of any kind."

The Doctor turned the fez over in his hands. "So?"

"There used to be." Kate handed him a tablet, one painting's original image displayed on the screen.

"Something's got out the paintings," breathed Clara, stealing the words from his mouth.

"Lots of somethings. Dangerous." The Doctor looked at Rose, who was humming quietly as she rocked their tired daughter. "Kate, do I need to get my family out of here?"

"Well." She drew out the word, considering. "This whole place has been searched. There's nothing here that shouldn't be, and nothing's got out."

Before he could process that his skin tingled, time-senses blaring a mauve-alert just before the air cracked in two.

A fogged-out memory began to clear. "Oh no, not now," he moaned.

The women were staring at the time fissure with wide eyes. "Doctor, what is it?" asked Clara, fear in her voice.

"No, not now," he repeated, glowering at the whirlpool-like rift. "I'm busy. Bloody h- my _child_ is here."

Kate spoke up. "Is it to do with the paintings?"

"It's a tear in the fabric of time," answered Rose softly.

The Doctor went to his wife, put his hands on her and Suzy. "I remember this, Rose. Almost remember." He gazed at the fez in his hands, and the memory came into sharp focus. "Oh, of course. This is where I come in."

In one smooth movement, he tossed the fez through the fissure, watched it disappear before turning back to Rose. "This is fixed, love. Everything will be fine, but I need to go." His chin dipped, and he looked deep into her eyes. "Okay?"

With trust, Rose nodded, and a grin lit his face like a flash of light. "Geronimo!" he yelled, and leapt through the shimmering swirl.

* * *

"Oh, that is skinny," said the Doctor, giving his prior self a judgmental once-over as he picked himself up from the dirt. "And I mean proper skinny, blimey; been quite some time since I've seen it from the outside. It's like a special effect. Oi!"

The skinny one stared, the shock in his expressive brown eyes quickly giving way to comprehension... followed by pure annoyance.

Jumping forward, the Doctor knocked the fez from the Other's head. "Ha! Matchstick man."

"You're not," his old self shot back, reaching inside his coat. The Doctor mirrored his actions, and, in tandem, they produced their sonic screwdrivers.

His own was not only better, but loads bigger. Gleefully, the Doctor showed it off, extending the prongs.

"Compensating?" commented Ten.

The Doctor narrowed his eyes. "For what?"

"Regeneration. It's a lottery."

The Doctor scowled blackly, not much liking that implication. Especially as he wasn't entirely certain which of his forms actually was...superior. _Rose would know,_ sang an evil little voice in his head.

His scowl deepened, and he flipped the screwdriver before re-pocketing it. "Oh, he's cool. Isn't he cool? I'm the Doctor and I'm all cool. Oops, I'm wearing sandshoes."

"What are you doing here? I'm busy." The other Doctor waved his sonic around.

"Oh, busy. I see. Is that what we're calling it, eh? Eh?" Plopping his fez on his head, he bowed to each Elizabeth in turn. "Hello, ladies."

Skinny huffed, snatching at his arm. "Don't start- look, one of them is a Zygon."

"Yet, somehow it doesn't put you off. Do you even realise how ridiculous you are? You've got to _stop_ with all this stupid..." His hands flailed, grasping for the word he wanted, and then they both jumped as the time fissure broke open again with a swish.

"Your Majesties," said the younger Doctor slowly, "probably a good time to run."

Both Queens responded as one. "But what about the creature?"

"Elizabeth, whichever one of you is the real one, turn and run in the opposite direction to the other one."

They did so, but not without each bidding his prior self a nauseatingly soppy farewell (punctuated, of course, by wet kisses).

Hardly surprising, and although the Other did not seem to enjoy it in the slightest the Doctor was _so_ disappointed in him. Disgusted too, enough that he sort of wanted to kick him. He settled for a reproachful glower.

The idiot ignored him, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Well, won't that be nice?"

"No," declared the Doctor, getting in his face. "It won't. You need to stop messing around with her or you'll regret it. More than you could _possibly_ imagine."

The other man considered him, his readable eyes more curious than contrite. Straightening to his full height, the Doctor folded his arms and held his gaze, happy to take him on in a stare-down if it might help get his point across. But after only a few seconds the younger him shrugged, the spark of interest fading from his eyes as he glanced away.

Rassilon, that form was terrible at masking his emotions, thought the Doctor, taking in the tired eyes, the flat hair, the hopeless slump of his shoulders. Throat going unexpectedly tight, he swallowed hard, remembering all too keenly what it was like to be him.

What it was like to be utterly alone. Heartbroken. Mad. One of the worst times of his life was standing here before him, tall and weary and in the flesh. Grief and pity swelled the Doctor's chest.

Then he snorted a little, shaking his head. Blimey, it had been a while since he'd felt like this, properly sorry for himself.

"What's with the hair?" he asked, grasping for a reason to break the silence.

The Other sniffed. "The Queen's doing. Didn't think it was dignified, the usual way."

"Well, now it just looks stupid," he stated, catching himself before he could tack on a comment about how much Rose would hate it.

(Why did he care that Rose would hate it, again? This gave his current self the clear advantage in the hair competition, but... the idea of Rose potentially seeing it like that still bothered him. Somehow, he was not pleased to chance her remembering that hair as anything less than glorious.)

" _Well_ ," the other echoed sarcastically, "since I believed I was lulling a murderous creature from space into a false sense of security, I thought it a noble sacrifice. Honestly, you should know that, you're me! Don't you remember any of this?"

"It's coming back as it happens. Odd. Almost like bits of it are still in flux-"

"Doctor, is that you?"

Although a bit muffled as it came through the fissure's center, the voice and cadence were unmistakable. Rose.

Mentally warning her away, Doctor stole a glance at his other self to find him staring, agape, at the mar in the air. He looked dizzily stunned, as if the thing had just up and walloped him.

Oh, that was very not good.

Also not good- though their bond was intact Rose wasn't responding, nor could he feel any of the concern so evident in her voice- and he had no time to focus on that now.

"Ah, hello, _Clara_ ," the Doctor called back hastily, in an effort to throw him off the scent. "Can you hear me?"


	2. Chapter 2

_"Clara, can you hear me?"_

* * *

"'S not Clara, it's me," replied Rose distractedly, juggling Suzy, who seemed determined to squirm out of her arms. "We can hear you. Where are you?"

"Where are we?" she heard him ask someone.

A long pause. Securing her daughter on a hip, Rose had just managed to fish a half sleeve of crackers from her jacket pocket when the reply came. "England, 1592."

Her breath caught, heart giving one single hard throb. That wasn't her husband- well. In a way it _was_ , or used to be, his warm tenor as dear and familiar as it was _impossible_.

 _Doctor? Is there something I should know?_ she projected, absently handing Suzy a cracker.

No response. Twisting the white rubber toe of a shoe against the floor, she prodded their bond. Nothing, not even the slightest hint of his emotions.

That was troubling.

Lacking any other option, Rose voiced a careful question out loud. "Who are you talking to?"

"Myself," two voices responded in unison.

Clamping a hand over her mouth, Rose scrambled back from the fissure. Oh, dear lord, she hadn't been imagining things. It was really him, her Doctor's last self. The second version of the man who loved her, and the first one to admit it out loud.

He called out again. "Who are you?"

Low and forceful, it would've come off as more demand than query if it weren't laced with fear... oh no. _Idiot_ , Rose chastised herself; of course he'd recognised her voice. Blinking back tears, she gestured for Kate to take over the conversation.

"This is Kate Stewart, Doctor. Can you come back through?"

This time Rose's husband responded. "Physical passage may not be possible in both directions. It's, ah! Hang on. Fez incoming!"

Suzy munched the last of her cracker while Rose, Clara, and Kate watched the swirling rift, waiting. No fez.

"Nothing here," called Clara.

The pinstriped Doctor spoke again, bringing fresh tears to Rose's eyes. "So where did it go?"

"Who is that?" Clara asked, with a keen eye on Rose. "Who's he talking to?"

"He said himself," Kate inserted.

Rose brushed crumbs from Suzy's hands, gathering herself. "Kate's right. It's, well, it's the Doctor's tenth incarnation, his last self, from right before this one. I'd know that voice anywhere."

Kate's mobile buzzed and she answered it, quickly walking off. Clara put a hand on Rose's arm, going quiet as Rose gave Suzy a second cracker. "So," she ventured tentatively, "he's the one you married first?"

"Well, not exactly. I married the part-human version of that Doctor, if you remember. Not...not the full Time Lord."

As Clara nodded, a commotion in 1592 drew their attention back to the rift. Shoulder to shoulder, the two listened in as a third man's voice joined the conversation. Gruff and impatient, he sounded like an older man, and when he soon declared the two Doctors to be "companions" Rose exhaled a disbelieving laugh.

"What's going on?" demanded Clara, as Kate returned to them.

Rose smiled, nuzzling Suzy's forehead. "I think there's three of them now."

Kate nodded knowledgeably. "There's a precedent for that."

"Tell me about it," said Rose.

"What, really? He sounds, I dunno, so much older than the other two." Clara's eyes were wide. "Think he's a future version or something?"

Rose shook her head. "It doesn't really work like that. Like, the face the Doctor has now, he says its his youngest one ever. But the older-sounding one, the one who just arrived, he didn't even know who the other two were, so they must be in his future. And...I dunno, their reactions to him...they don't seem to like him much." She sighed. "That, and the painting upstairs, it can't be a coincidence. I think he's the Doctor who fought in the Time War."

Clara's mouth opened, but Rose missed her response as Suzy, having finished her snack, thrust into her mother's mind an image of the floor which was coupled with an intense feeling of frustration. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but you can't crawl around," she said, bouncing her. "There's broken glass all over."

Little jaw jutting out just like her father's, Suzy stiffened, and then flung herself backward with a wail.

"Shh," Rose hushed, cringing as she jogged with her to the opposite end of the room, as far from the rift as she could get. She tipped her little girl into a cradle hold to rock her, but Suzy only let loose a second wail, louder this time.

Shushing her again, Rose paced in a line near the wall, grimacing at Clara and Kate when her daughter began to cry in earnest. Blimey, was this ever going to put the Doctor in a tough spot, if she couldn't settle Suzy down before his past selves overheard her.

Her tired, overstimulated baby; she was struggling against Rose's hold on her, flooding their link with erratic pulses of agitation. Rose thought fast. Offering a breast was a surefire solution, but she didn't much fancy whipping one out in this place, so what else? She closed her eyes, attempting to stem the anxious mental torrent with soothing waves of love and wellbeing, like a telepathic lullaby.

Slowly, Suzy's tightly wound body uncoiled, her sobs losing strength. Rose dropped her chin, touching their foreheads together to strengthen the link, and puffed out a sigh of relief once her daughter quieted completely, her breaths warm and regular against Rose's face.

She held the bowed position for a little longer, only lifting her head when Suzy was fully limp with sleep. After rolling her tight shoulders (and half-wishing for another nap herself), Rose carefully picked her way over the glass-strewn floors to return to the other women. "Do you think they heard?" she asked, low.

Clara shared a look with Kate. "Um, sorry, but...they've sort of been bickering about it. Well, one of him is, anyway. Your Doctor is just telling him he's bonkers and the older one -I mean, youngest one- all he's done is gripe about the other two. At least until the soldiers showed up."

"Soldiers- is that what I hear now?" Rose squeezed her eyes shut; could nothing go right today? "Brilliant."

A gravelly-voiced complaint floated through the rift. "Oh, the pointing again. They're screwdrivers! What are you going to do, assemble a cabinet at them? Are you mad?"

"That thing," said a soldier, "what witchcraft is it?"

"Mad I may be," the Tenth Doctor's voice cut in, "but not even close to mad enough to _imagine_ I heard a baby crying-"

"A baby," scoffed the baby's father. "And you, sir, now that you mention it, that is witchcraft. Yes, yes, yes. Witchy witchcraft. Hello? Hello in there. Excuse me. Hello! Am I talking to the wicked witch of the well?"

Clara and Kate looked at each other. "He means you," Kate told her.

She made a face. "Why am I the witch?"

"Clara?" called the Doctor.

"Hello?"

"Clara, hi, hello. Hello. Would you mind telling these prattling mortals to get themselves begone?"

"What he said," replied Clara, wrinkling her nose.

"Yes, tiny bit more colour."

"Right." With a sigh, she leaned in. "Prattling mortals, off you pop, or...I'll turn you all into frogs."

Rose pressed her mouth to the top of Suzy's head, muffling a laugh.

"Ooo, frogs," said the Doctor. "Nice. You heard her."

The three women shared a smile.

"Doctor, what's going on?" said Clara.

The chant of soldiers told her. "The Queen. The Queen."

Stifling a growl, Rose shuffled closer, rocking Suzy. That woman; she'd started this whole thing with her stupid note, of course she was bound to show up at some point. 'Gentle husband', indeed. If she tried to pull _any_ of her Doctors...

"You don't seem to be kneeling," said the Queen, in a refined, commanding voice. "How tremendously brave of you."

"Which one are you?" asked the Doctor in pinstripes. "What happened to the other one?"

"Other one what?" Clara mouthed. Kate and Rose shrugged.

"Indisposed," declared Elizabeth. "Long live the Queen."

"Long live the Queen," echoed the soldiers.

"Arrest these men. Take them to the Tower."

"That is not the Queen of England," stated Doctor Ten authoritatively. Rose smiled, picturing him straightening up with a lofty sniff. "That's an alien duplicate."

"A dangerous alien duplicate," Rose's husband modified, loud and pointed and clearly meant for her benefit. "All conniving, and evil, and, and murderous. Blimey. Good thing there are _no babies_ here."

Rose rolled her eyes.

The other Doctor jumped all over that. "Who even says that, 'good thing there's no babies here'? Why would anyone say that unless-"

"Oh, hang on," interrupted her current Doctor, in an _aha_ sort of way that made Rose's ears perk up. "The Tower. Did you say the Tower? Ah, yes, brilliant. Love the Tower. Breakfast at eight, please. Will there be Wi-Fi?"

The older (younger) one again. "Are you capable of speaking without flapping your hands about?"

"Yes. No. I demand to be incarcerated in the Tower immediately with my co-conspirators Sandshoes and Granddad."

"Incarcerated, of course," complained Clara, kicking a chunk of glass across the floor. "Goodness, Rose, it's like things aren't fun enough for him unless he gets himself arrested, he's always got to be mucking about, and now we can't even-"

"No, he's not mucking about, it's a plan." Suzy stirred, eyelids fluttering, and Rose swayed to quiet her. "Shh."

Elizabeth again. "Silence. The Tower is not to be taken lightly. Very few emerge again."

"Dear God, that man's clever," said Kate, looking to Rose for confirmation. At her nod, she wheeled around. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" asked Clara, as she and Rose rushed after her.

"My office, otherwise known as the Tower of London," explained Kate shortly, and then spoke into her mobile. "The Doctor will be trying to send us a message. We're looking for a string of numerals from around 1550, approximately. Priority One. I'm going to need access to the Black Archive."

On hearing this, Clara glanced at Rose in confusion. "Why would he need to send us a message? We know he'll be in the Tower, 1592, and you can fly the TARDIS. Can't we just go fetch him?"

"I could," said Rose slowly. "And I might. But, the Doctor doesn't want me to. He thinks it's too dangerous for Suzy and I respect that, so I'm willing to go along with whatever he's planning until it doesn't work. Besides," she added, lowering her voice, "Kate just said Black Archive, and there's no way I'm missing out on that little field trip." She grinned down at the peacefully sleeping infant. "Oh, is Daddy ever gonna be _jealous_."

* * *

"Lock and key?" Clara finger-combed her long dark hair, watching Kate unlock a heavily fortified door. "Bit basic, isn't it?"

"Can't afford electronic security down here," said Kate, ushering them into a cavernous dark space. One by one, lights began to pop on.

"Cos you need to keep the Doctor out," said Rose.

Kate halted, looking at her in astonishment. "C'mon," Rose went on. "You've TARDIS-proofed this place, of course he's gonna know about it. Drives him mad, it does. 'Specially since he doesn't get why."

Squaring her shoulders, Kate began to lead the way, heels clicking on concrete. "He really wouldn't approve of the collection."

Clara's head turned, taking in a board full of photos, a pair of red high heels sitting amongst bins on a shelf. "Then why are you bringing Rose in? And me?"

"You have a top level security rating, Clara, and Rose..." She looked at Rose. "There's not exactly a precedent for this, but as his wife, you're...well. Above all that. Please don't misunderstand, our main intention here is not to hide things from the Doctor, but rather to keep information about the him and the TARDIS from falling into the wrong hands. The consequences could be disastrous."

Face softening, she took in the baby girl, fast asleep in her mother's arms, all pink cheeks and long lashes. "Obviously, that now includes information about his family. The child's existence will be kept secret, on my honour."

"We know," Rose assured her. "And thank you."

On rounding a corner, a backlit glass booth immediately drew Rose's eye. "Oh my god, that's Jack's! His vortex manipulator! How did you get that?"

"It was bequeathed to the UNIT archive by Captain Harkness on the occasion of his death." Kate's lips quirked. "Well, one of them."

All the pieces fell into place for Rose. "The Doctor wants us to use this to rescue him."

"Not 'us'," Clara replied firmly. "Just me. He's only gone to all this trouble cos he doesn't want you and the baby there, remember."

Rose shook her head, sighing. "No. For several reasons, m'sure."

"I'm not sure there's enough power for a two-way trip," mused Kate, unlocking the case with a key. "In any event, we don't have the activation code. The Doctor knows we have this, so he's always kept the code from us. Let's hope he changes his mind." As if on cue, her phone rang. "Yes? Well, if you've found it, photograph it and send it to my phone."

A small intake of breath, and Rose glanced at Clara to find her staring back over her shoulder, frowning. Osgood and a male scientist had just entered the space, and the blank looks on their faces made their slow approach seem almost menacing. "Er, Kate?" said Clara. "Should they be here? Why have they followed us?"

"Oh," replied Kate, ringing off, "they've probably just finished disposing of the humans a bit early."

"The humans?"

Kate smiled. "Dear me. I really do get into character, don't I?" Shrieking, Rose and Clara leapt back as she spat at them, the hot, foul-smelling liquid spattering their shoes as Kate's fair skin split to reveal a blubbery, razor-toothed Zygon.

"The Under Gallery is secured," stated Osgood in a chilling alien monotone, as Suzy, startled awake by noise and fear, began to wail. Protective power fueling her, Rose clutched her daughter close, and darted into the glass booth with Clara close behind.

"Quick, help me get this on," she gasped out, shoving the vortex manipulator into Clara's hands. "I saw the code on Kate's mobile."

The Zygon's command could be heard through the glass. "Prepare to dispose of more humans. We have acquired the device."

"Put your hand on it!" yelled Rose, as Clara's shaky fingers finished securing the thick leather band onto her wrist.

Clara did so. "We're going to time-travel with a baby?"

"Yes!" Hastily, Rose keyed in the code. "She'll be fine, she's half Time Lord!"

* * *

Dust particles danced in the meager torchlight, powdering his hand and drifting over his shoes as the Doctor continued to scratch the stone pillar with a metal rod. One number to go, and then Clara would come get him out of here. Clara, and Clara alone. Hopefully. He had no doubt his wife had gotten the point of his plan, understood this was no place for her and little Suzy, but. If she was worried enough about him...

 _Please, Rose, stay behind,_ he pled into their bond, knowing she couldn't hear him but praying that some his urgency might seep through, all the same. _I need you two safe._

Zygons were a nasty sort, but what bothered him most was that he'd apparently done this whole thing twice before and he still had no idea how it was all going to play out. His own future was in flux, perhaps even in danger. The thought of his family being affected in some way? He couldn't stomach it.

Against his better judgement, he snuck a look at one of his companions. His Warrior-self (the one incarnation he'd never cared to think of again, much less go on a bloody outing with) stood at the heavy wooden door, still working (in vain, they all knew) to resonate the molecules with his outdated, red-tipped sonic. Muttering at intervals to no one, glaring at nothing. He was clearly off his rocker.

The Doctor was desperate to get away from him. Being near him made his head ache, made his skin crawl. Everything about him reeked of the War; his soiled boots and worn leather jacket, the military haircut, the deep lines in his face and grim darkness in his eyes. He was a festering wound, a demon he'd never conquer. Now made all the more intolerable because of the clear, new specs of life-perspective the Doctor was viewing him through.

That of a father.

A father, in the real sense for the first time ever. A hands-on, lovingly attentive, day-by-day building a relationship with his daughter sort of father. And now, the War wasn't just about what was lost, but what he'd lost _for her_. The Doctor had bid eternal farewell to his home, but the thought that Suzy would never even know it- oh, it made thoughts of Gallifrey hurt him more than they had in centuries. And their people... family she'd never meet, friends. People who were not like Rassilon and his cronies. They certainly hadn't deserved to die.

But.

Nothing else, no one, would exist today, had he chosen not to press that button.

Hauling air into his lungs, he stared at his handiwork till breathing came easier, then turned his attention to his Tenth self. Not so difficult to look at by a long shot, though he irritated the Doctor to his core.

He was doing what he did best- brooding, hands shoved in his pockets, that stupid haunted look in his eyes again. It made the Doctor almost glad there were Zygons around, just because it meant Rose would stay home and never see him like this. Not that she'd _mind,_ per se. No, his wife would likely relish the opportunity to comfort that sad old bugger, and that's just where it would start. The Doctor squinted at him, leery. All that regret, so heavy on his shoulders, far too much of it Rose-related. Made him one-hundred percent untrustworthy.

Granddad broke the silence. "Did you ever count?"

"Count what?" said the Doctor, going back to his carving.

"How many children there were on Gallifrey that day."

He paused, rod hovering over mortar, his gaze sliding sideways to flick over the old man. "I have absolutely no idea."

It was a lie, of course. Of course he knew how many, it was seared into his mind like a brand, ever since the terrible night when he'd lain awake and counted. Pain which had returned full-force the day his own daughter was born, when in her wee face he saw every one of the billions lost, deprived of their future by his hand.

 _The Daleks and Time Lords, they're the ones who did it,_ Rose had reminded him, again and again. _They're ones who deprived those children of a future. You only spared them from hell._

The Warrior scratched his scruffy beard. "How old are you now?"

Jaw tightening, the Doctor gouged the stone. "Ah, I don't know. I lose track. Twelve hundred and something, I think, unless I'm lying. I can't remember if I'm lying about my age, that's how old I am."

"Four hundred years older than me, and in all that time you've never even wondered how many there were? You never once counted?"

"Tell me, what would be the point?" _Shut up, you persistent old sod._

His other self spoke up. "Two point four seven billion."

The Warrior straightened. "You did count!"

"You _forgot_?" Fire blazed in the Other's eyes. "Four hundred years, is that all it takes?"

The Doctor struggled not to betray his own anger. "I moved on."

"Where? Where can you be now that you can forget something like that?"

A memory surfaced unbidden, a homey scene from mere hours ago. A pyjama-clad Suzy in her highchair, mouth open and eager as he delivered a spoonful of mashed banana; Rose, with half-lidded eyes, dropping a good-morning kiss on his lips as she fumbled her way to the pot of tea.

His index finger twitched, itching to touch the outraged freckled face and share the vision. _Gangly flimsy legs of his would probably give out._ A laugh bubbled out of the Doctor before he could stop it.

"Oh, is something funny?" His other self was the picture of righteous indignation, nostrils flaring, eyes dark and stormy. "Did I miss a funny thing?"

"No, no, sorry." The Doctor inhaled, long and deep, and managed to stop laughing. Mostly. "It just occurred to me. This is what I'm like when I'm alone."

Intense dark eyes narrowed on him. "No. No no no, don't do that, avoiding my question. For once I'd like to know where I'm going."

In spite of his efforts to fight it, the Doctor's grin grew. "Mate, I'm sure you would."

"Four hundred years," said the Warrior, like it meant something.

"I'm sorry?" Ten shot him a look.

A rough, thick-fingered hand held up the red-tipped sonic screwdriver. "At a software level, they're all the same device, aren't they? Same software, different case."

"Yeah."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "So..."

"So, it would take centuries for the screwdriver to calculate how to disintegrate the door. Scanning the door, implanting the calculation as a permanent subroutine in the software architecture and, if you really are me, with your sandshoes and your dickie bow, and that screwdriver is still mine, that calculation is still going on."

The blue-tipped sonic was held aloft. "Yeah," breathed its owner. "Still going."

A flash of green, a glance at the readout on his own, and the Doctor grinned. "Calculation complete. Hey, four hundred years in four seconds. We may have had our differences, which is frankly odd in the circumstances, but, I tell you what, boys. We are incredibly clever."

All at once the door swung open, Clara stumbling into the room.

The Doctor gaped at her. "How did you do that?"

"It wasn't locked." Clara's big brown eyes were worried, her shoulders heaving as if she'd been running, and... _his family._ Bounding to her, he bent to her ear.

"Where is she?"

His stomach clenched when Clara, with a little nose wrinkle, inclined her head to the door. "Long story," she whispered, her eyes finding the others. "So they're both you, then, yeah?"

"Yeah. Introduce yourself." The Doctor held her gaze. "Don't let them follow me," he mouthed.

* * *

He found Rose waiting just outside, in the dimly lit corridor. Suzy, big-eyed and quiet, was upright in her arms.

Before she could speak, he caught them both up in a hug. "I'm really, really angry right now," he said, his face in Rose's hair. "You know you shouldn't be here."

"I know," murmured Rose against his neck. "But I didn't have a choice. There were Zygons."

"Zygons?" A mental lightbulb lit up and he drew back, heel of his hand thumping his forehead. " _Stupid_ , stupid Doctor, of course that's what got out the paintings, how did I not realise-"

"It's all right," Rose interrupted, the strength of her tone contrasting with the soft caress of her hand on his cheek. "We'reall right. You can't foresee everything."

Leaning in, he kissed her once, twice, and then brushed another kiss across Suzy's forehead. "You couldn't even tell me; I'm so sorry, love. I had no idea our bond would be disrupted like that, must be all the time distortions, and then with several centuries separating us it just-"

 _It's fine now,_ she told him, eyes slipping shut. _Oh, I missed you._

 _I missed you too._ Drawn in like a magnet, his lips found hers again, the kiss heating only to be cut short by tiny hands pushing at his chest. Laughing quietly, the Doctor bent and rubbed his cheek against the baby's, slow, until the scratchy tickliness of it made her squeal in delight.

"Shh." Rose gave him a chastising look.

"What're you shushing me for, she's the noisy one," he retorted with a grin, dimpling Suzy's round cheeks with two fingertips. "Yes, you are, miss. Gave Mummy a bit of a rough time earlier, eh?"

"She's done worse," sighed Rose, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as her gaze shifted to the door. "He's in there, isn't he? Your last self. He's gonna see Suzy and me, and then what? He can't find out his own future!"

"He won't remember. I didn't, till now, things are only coming back in bits and pieces as they happen."

Rose looked only slightly comforted. "All right, but...he's going to freak."

Another new memory began to break through like a ray of sunshine, and the Doctor scowled at it. "Yes, he will," he grumbled. "But he won't exactly be upset, you know."

It was a natural thing, really, that such primal possessiveness should rear up in him at the very idea of sharing his wife. Normally, it would never be allowed to become an issue. Rose was _his_ , and any man sending longing looks her way would be dealt a swift shove-off by means of a Time Lord death glare. This was different. This time, the moon-eyed competitor (or even, depending on Grandad's reaction, _competitors_ ) was himself. So technically, Rose belonged to him, too, as she belonged to every him, past and future. A fact which he was usually quite happy to stake claim to.

Amusement brewed in Rose's eyes, like she was beginning to enjoy this. "You all right?"

"No," he retorted, barely refraining from stomping his foot. "No, I'm not. Just...Rose, you can't pay him too much attention, okay? You know how he gets. That one, he's...he's like a big, needy puppy or something. The more you pet him the more he'll want."

A snicker. "The more I pet him?"

Index finger wagging, he paced, shoulders hunched. "And whatever you do, don't let him kiss you, Rose. He's gonna try something, I just know it. And I had to wait ages, eons _,_ for our first kiss, so it's not fair if he-"

"Oh my god, Doctor, listen to yourself. He's _you._ " A bit of pink tongue poked out of her grin. "If things go well enough, just think of all the nice new memories you'll have."

Hands flailing, the Doctor spluttered- for about three seconds, until Rose caught his bottom lip between her own. She pulled it into her mouth, laving it till he growled and kissed back, his hands finding her waist.

"I'm just teasing, yeah?" gasped Rose as she broke away, still in his arms, Suzy sandwiched between them. "These situations are hard for you, an' I should know. I had to listen to you moan about it for _years_ after the last time."

That was unfair, that wasn't _this_ him- a truth he did not bother to point out because she'd only shoot it down with an _'_ oh, so you're always the same man 'cept for when you've been a git.'

"Oi, this isn't just jealousy, you know. Big, nasty Zygons running around, wife and defenseless baby daughter. Remember?"

She poked him in the chest. "She's not so defenseless, yeah, not with three versions of her daddy to protect her. A Zygon dares even look at her wrong, and..." Rose mimed a shudder. The Doctor cracked a grin, a bit mollified. She did make a good point.

"Well, I should-" He thumbed toward the door. "Just...let me break it to him, a bit. Don't need him, you know, spontaneously regenerating or something."

Rose didn't answer, nervously picking at the hem of Suzy's dress, and he tapped her nose reassuringly before ducking back into the cell.

"Oi, you," he called out, drawing the skinny one's attention away from Clara. "So you claim you want to know where you're going, eh? Still stand by that?"

His other self considered him, brows drawn in suspicion, then gave a careful nod.

"Good," replied the Doctor, mouth quirking as the theatric side of him began to win out over his sulky side. "Cos you're about to get quite the glimpse."

He gave the heavy door a sharp tug. As it rattled open, Rose, baby in her arms, slowly emerged from the shadows like a fair-haired Madonna. Her pink cheeks bloomed crimson as her gaze locked with that of his Tenth self. His complexion did the opposite, utter shock paling it till he'd pass for a freckled marble statue.

Worried, Rose took a cautious step toward him, practically radiating love and reassurance. But aside from a slight widening of his (already enormous) eyes, he didn't move, didn't breathe, as if expecting the hallucination to shatter any second, and-

"What, does _everybody_ come in doubles and triples today?"

A collective breath, every pair of eyes going to the Warrior. Leather-clad arms folded tight, he stood near the door, fierce and grey and demanding.

The back of the Doctor's neck prickled, and he braced himself for a worse explosion.

"What the _hell_ did you do?!"

His tenth self had returned to life with a vengeance, wild-eyed and furious, the full Oncoming Storm bearing down on the Doctor. "Rose is supposed to be- you stole her back again, didn't you?! She has a _child_ for god's sake _,_ and you just took her from her family, from..."

Chest heaving, he darted a glance at their youngest self, censoring himself with effort. "You know who from, from _Him,_ the one who could give her a normal life. And from the looks of things he certainly tried to do-"

"Oi, that's not-"

"This is a new low, even for you," he ground out, plunging a hand into his hair. "I was hoping you'd have learned something, especially after what just happened on Mars, but apparently not, and don't even try and tell me that that baby isn't theirs, she looks just like Rose except for the dark hair, which no doubt came from-"

"From _me_ ," the Doctor shouted, hands fisting at his sides. "She's _my_ daughter, not the meta-crisis'. Not in the way you're thinking. And I didn't steal Rose. She came back all on her own."

Jaw clenched and eyes guarded, he shook his head, slow. Disbelieving. But not because he didn't want to believe. Because he didn't dare to.

Gently, Rose broke in. "'S true, Doctor," she told him, stroking Suzy's hair. The little girl's head lay on her mother's chest, her bottom lip wobbling, brown eyes big and anxious. "It's a very long story, but it's not a bad one, I promise." She smiled, soft and strained. "And this is how it ends."

He gazed at her, apple in his throat bobbing. "Rose-"

"Good heavens!" came another roar, startling them. "You don't mean to say that _I'm_ that child's father? Please tell me that in future, I don't go around _impregnating_ my human companions!"

"Of course not," the Doctor retorted hotly, staring him down. "You only impregnate your _wife_."

Leaving one stupefied self to chew things over, he turned back in time to find the other was back to being gobsmacked. "Rose. We're really... together?"

Rose sniffed, wiping her eyes and laughing a little. "Yeah."

His own smile unfolded, shaky and a bit contorted, in a valiant effort to swallow back tears. "Oh."

"That's all you've got to say?" Rose teased, with a watery laugh. "Do I at least get a hug?"

Another silent moment, and then he closed the distance between them in a single bound, coming to a standstill in front of Rose. He hesitated, twitchy, with wary eyes on the baby.

"You're not gonna scare her," Rose assured, her free arm opening.

That did it. He broke; swept them into a long embrace, his face buried in her hair.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, over and over. "I'm so, so sorry I left you again, Rose, I thought... I just wanted you to be happy."

Tilting her face up, she traced his sideburn. "I was. _Am_. You did right, leaving me with him; that life was meant to be. And so is this one."

"But why-" he trailed off, noticing how Suzy was calmly watching him, chewing on a finger. Awe crept into his expression, and more than a bit of fear, as the magnitude of all this - _his child-_ began to sink in. "Hello." His eyes lifted to Rose's. "What's her name?"

"Susan. Suzy, we call her."

His breath hitched. "Really?"

With a smile, Suzy reached for him. He lifted her, gingerly, and blinked when she snuggled in and grabbed his tie. "Hello," he said again, breathlessly.

"Da," said Suzy, as his fisted tie went into her mouth.

"All right, all right, don't pass out," the Doctor cut in, chuckling. "Of course she knows who you are, you idiot, she's telepathic just like every other Gallifreyan child."

Clara scraped a toe on the gritty stone floor. "Sorry to interrupt, but don't you think we should, you know. Escape now?"

"Right," the Doctor agreed readily; his former self had gotten more than enough canoodling time. "Let's go."

"Rose." Clara began to giggle. "There were three of them in one cell, and none of them thought to try the door."

Rose snorted, her giggles joining Clara's.

"It should have been locked," defended the old man, finally able to speak again.

The Doctor nodded agreement. "Yes. Exactly. Why wasn't it locked?"

"Because," drawled Elizabeth, slipping into the room, "I was fascinated to see what you would do upon escaping." Pausing, her eyes zeroed in on Doctor Ten, on the pink-attired baby cuddled into the crook of his left elbow. "Whose child is that?"

"Mine," the Doctor called out, before the enamored one could claim her first and get them in more trouble. He hurried over there, his younger self handing her over reluctantly.

"All right." Elizabeth's gaze swept over the small group. "I understand you're rather fond of this world. It's time I think you saw what's going to happen to it."

* * *

It was cold, this section of Tower dungeon, Suzy wrapped like a baby burrito in the dense purple wool of his coat to protect her from the chill. The Doctor hoped it might ward off some of the nightmarishness as well. The eerie red glow, the sticky damp, vile with the odor of unwashed Zygon, the thudding footsteps that echoed off the stone walls like thunder, accompanied by monster's growls.

At Elizabeth's bidding, one of the huge creatures approached. The Doctor's body curled instinctively round his little daughter, Rose's weight heavy against him, her hand also on their baby's back.

And the Doctor did not miss the way his other selves, even the Warrior, sidled closer, protectively flanking his family on either side.

The thing spoke, showing rows of slime-coated sharp teeth. "Commander, why are these creatures here?"

"Because I say they should be. It is time you too were translated." The Queen lifted her chin. "Observe this. I believe you will find it fascinating."

The Zygon placed his rubbery hand on the glass cube, vanishing, only to reappear in the painting nearby, the 3D landscape from the Under Gallery.

"That's him," Clara observed. "The Zygon is in the picture now."

There was further discussion; apparently the Zygons had waited in the paintings, in stasis, till the world was worth conquering, which was not news to the Doctor. More interesting was his younger self's reckless behavior, gob taking over as he insulted the Queen's appearance (and smell) roundly, claiming such as proof she was the Zygon duplicate.

Guessing his game was simple. Rose was here, and now he was desperate to put the other woman off.

"I am the real Elizabeth," she declared loftily, ignoring his rude little rant. "My twin is dead in the forest. I am accustomed to taking precautions." Lifting her skirt, she produced a gleaming dagger.

"You killed a Zygon?" asked Clara, eyes tracing the wicked blade.

"I may have the body of a weak and feeble woman, but at the time, so did the Zygon. The future of my kingdom is imperiled. Doctor, can I rely on your service?"

"Well." He tugged an earlobe. "I'm going to need my TARDIS."

"It has been procured already."

"Ah."

"But first, my love, you have a promise to keep," she informed him, ordering them all to come along before swishing away.

Number Ten cringed like a hunted animal, and the Doctor stuck out a hand to snatch him by the collar. "'Promise'?"

"She's supposed to be a Zygon," he mumbled, jerking away. "I didn't think the real Queen would say 'yes'."

"You _proposed_?" gasped Rose, hurt gaze flicking from Doctor to Doctor like she wasn't sure which of him to be more upset with. "Oh my god, you've got to marry her."

"He'll fix it," swore the Doctor, cuffing his boot hard against the man's plimsoll, earning a dirty look and return kick.

"That's why her letter addressed you as 'husband'," she went on, gaze falling to her trainers. "And there's a portrait of you together."

Brows drawn in distress, the younger Doctor sent a deeply apologetic look Rose's way before suddenly hurrying ahead, pushing past Clara and the grey-haired one to walk just behind the Queen.

The Doctor slumped and turned to his wife. "Rose-"

"Just leave it," she warned him, arms hugging herself, and angled away when he tried to touch her.

Swallowing, he resigned himself to what felt like a silent death march, the sweet-scented warmth of his daughter in his arms his only comfort. Think, think. There had to be something he could do...

The Doctor brightened as he finally emerged into a sunny courtyard and caught sight of his prior self, deep in a heated discussion with the bride-to-be. Oh, brilliant, perhaps he'd got the tenses wrong again. Not 'something he could do'.

Something he had done.

"Already married!" cried the Queen in a rage.

"Yep," answered the pinstriped Doctor cheerfully, rocking back on his heels and directing a soppy smile at a flabbergasted Rose. "Normally I'd apologise, you know, for the misunderstanding and all, but I don't think there's anything I've ever been less sorry about."

Red-faced, the Queen advanced on him; if she'd truly been a Zygon she'd have ripped him apart. "Guards! EXECUTE HIM!"

"I do pledge myself to the safety of your kingdom; just drop a note if you need anything," he tripped out, Chucks churning up a cloud of dust as he spun away with a grin and a shout. "RUN!"


	3. Chapter 3

**To quote the Tenth Doctor: I am so, so sorry this took so long! I had the entire story drafted before I began posting, but life has been so insane this last month I've hardly had a minute to edit this. It's a beast, too. I sincerely hope you like long chapters. :)**

* * *

"You've let this place go a bit," the grey-haired Doctor commented, his heavy boots clanking on the ramp. In spite of his older body and recent sprint to the TARDIS, he didn't sound out of breath at all.

"Ah, it's his grunge phase." With a lofty sniff, the Doctor eyed the ratty duct-tape on the jumpseat. "He grows out of it."

"Oi," said Rose, swatting him lightly on the backside (and, when this earned looks of shocked interest from both his prior selves, bit down a grin). "You promised to stop making rude comments about this layout, remember? 'S my favourite." She took Suzy from him and began to unbundle her from his coat.

"Yeah?" Rose glanced over to find her last Doctor beaming at her, his brown eyes warm and adoring and crinkling at the edges. Like she'd just declared that _he_ , personally, was her favourite. Her heart couldn't help but swell with reciprocal love, urging her to properly ruffle his hair and press affectionate kisses all over his adorable soppy face, the face she'd missed so much.

Forcing herself to look away, Rose replied matter-of-factly. "Course it is." She handed her husband his coat back, then went and sat on the jump-seat with Suzy on her lap. At once the baby bent forward, stretching curious little hands out toward the console's bright buttons and tempting knobs, and let out a frustrated sound when they remained just out of reach.

"Bet you're sick of being held," said Rose sympathetically, turning Suzy to face her and standing her up on her lap. "But I can't put you down." Much as she loved this layout, the grated floors were far from child-friendly.

"You've been a little trooper today," said Clara, plopping down beside Rose and giving Suzy's nose a boop.

"Her or me?" asked Rose wryly, and when Clara offered an understanding smile Rose knew she could feel it too.

Tension. The air was thick with all sorts of it, the potentially combustible-if-combined sorts, like fear and confusion, jealousy. Want. Even now she could feel the pinstriped Doctor's heavy gaze on her. She didn't dare meet his eye, for fear she might march over there and do something about it.

Rose ached to comfort him. Would do so in a heartbeat, if she could be sure it wouldn't end with him and her current Doctor having a go at each other. It hurt her to see him look such a wreck. The lack of gob, that flat hair, the hungry gleam in his eyes as he watched her -like a condemned man gazing upon salvation- it lodged a lump in her throat that she could not swallow. Blimey, he needed hugging for _hours_.

Though she strongly suspected her bond-mate could use a good long hug himself. After an afternoon spent with a living war flashback, the utter _lack_ of distress seeping from his mind to hers spoke volumes- it was bad enough to need shielding. But for him, at least, she could do a little something. A warm mental touch, a tighter entwining of consciouses. The Doctor looked at her, a small smile gracing his lips, and Rose knew he was grateful for the telepathic hand-hold.

"Okay," he said, clapping his hands together once as this TARDIS' owner circled the console. "Not to imply I didn't enjoy that nice little jog, because I did, however, we might have a bit of a paradox to resolve now, boys." Slouching against the railing, he dug a hand into the pocket of his re-donned coat and retrieved Elizabeth's crinkled note. "Yep," he went on, making a face as he got it unfolded. "Still calls me her husband. And... love."

A heady sort of warmth flooded Rose as his meaning hit. A paradox. Not only had the Doctor jilted a Queen, he'd caused a paradox, all out of loving concern for _her_. Her brown eyes sought his, wordlessly expressing her intense appreciation. He stilled under her heated gaze and held it, his long fingers going white-knuckled in their grip on a lever.

The Soldier slapped his hands flat on the console, purposely startling his older self back to reality. "What sort of person gets into a scrape like that? Proposes to a woman to manipulate her?"

Blinking, the Doctor in brown managed to jerk the lever and the Time Rotor chugged, a slow up and down. "That wasn't why."

The leather-clad one's gaze flicked briefly between Rose and him. "Well, your heart obviously wasn't in it."

"No," he agreed, eyes lifting to meet his other self's squarely. "It wasn't."

The Doctor hooked a finger behind his bow-tie, going thoughtful. "So you wouldn't've gone back for the honeymoon, then? To have a bit of fun? Sit for a portrait, perhaps?"

"What?" His younger self looked horrified. "Of course not."

"Right, didn't think so. Which begs the question: would the Queen want me any less dead if I'd actually said vows to her before swanning off forever?"

Clara snorted, sharing a look with Rose. "Not bloody likely."

"Well, she's also not likely to catch me long enough to kill me, so I don't know why we're talking about this." His lanky body stretched out across the console, till he just managed to flip a blinking red switch with his fingertips. "What difference does it make?" He eyed the Doctor as he straightened back up. "Wait. Don't tell me that's how I get the..." His fingers wiggled near the bottom of his face.

"The what?"

"The chin."

"What? No!" Huffing, the Doctor folded his arms over his chest. "If you'd shut up and pay attention, you'd realise it _wouldn't_ make a difference whether or not I married her, that's the bloody _point_." He held up the royal summons. "She was going to hate me either way. So why are there terms of endearment in this letter?"

All three Doctors perked up, looking at each other, and then sparks flew. "Ow!" yelped the Doctor in pinstripes, giving the console a glare as he shook the zap from his hand. "The desktop is glitching."

"Three of us from different time zones," said the grey-haired one, eyes scanning the room. "It's trying to compensate."

The walls went dark, white circles in orderly lines popping out in stark contrast, and her husband grinned. "Rose, look. The round things."

"I love the round things," said she and Doctor Ten in unison, and they shared a smile.

A shrill beeping. "Oh dear, the friction contrafibulator," exclaimed the Doctor, dashing round the console to flip a small lever. There was a blinding flash. "Ha! There, stabilised."

Rose glanced around in surprise. The console room layout had shifted entirely, settling into the familiar blues and steely greys of her and the Doctor's home TARDIS. Everything was as they'd left it a few hours ago, right down to the dressing gown she'd draped over the railing, the empty mug on the console, Suzy's portable cot in a corner. A blanket with plastic blocks scattered over it still lay on the floor near her feet.

Breath baited, she watched her last Doctor take it all in, his hands buried in his pockets.

Her current Doctor looked beyond pleased. "What do you think?" he prodded his younger self.

A pause, and an answer in a quiet voice. "Domestic."

The word lacked every bit of the old scorn, and Rose smiled as she leaned forward, setting Suzy down on the blanket to play.

"Homey," amended the Doctor, a skip in his step as he went to the console, happy to be back at the helm of his own ship.

"Yep."

The Warrior said nothing, his expression shuttered and near impossible to read. But the non-reaction was so very Doctorish that all at once Rose felt drawn to him, an inner tug she'd been trying to avoid. Not because his other selves had disowned him (no, in her eyes this man was definitely the Doctor) but because of what crept through his stoic mask.

Regret. He was regretting his future the way ordinary people might regret something in their past, like a night's heedless actions with unexpected lifelong impact. Him disapproving the bow-tie or the trainers was one thing, but to have that same look turned upon her and Suzy? Like they too were a consequence of his oncoming madness? It rose up in her long-buried insecurities, a bitter taste of a time when she herself had been firmly convinced of the same.

The Doctor's mental voice broke through her dark thoughts. _Stop it._

Rose gave him her best smile, feeling guilty. _Don't know what you mean._

 _Yes, you do._ The Doctor paused to meet her eye, gaze warm _. He's a tired old soldier, dear, with a head full of war and injustice and death. Doesn't believe he deserves life, much less love._

A well meant reassurance, but it hurt Rose's heart in a different way. Nibbling her pinky nail, she took in the Doctor in leather, suddenly yearning to hug him too.

 _He'll be fine, Rose,_ the Doctor consoled. _Before too long he'll meet someone. A girl, I think, all pink and yellow. She'll snap him out of it._

That brought a small smile to her lips, a flash of memory to her mind. Of piercing blue eyes gone warm and soft, lingering on her like she was precious. God, she missed those eyes sometimes; if only he were part of the whole "this is your life" thing the Doctor had going on today. _Wonder what he'd think of all this._

Mid zig-zag, the Doctor halted the plotter, his eyebrows shooting up. "I don't need to wonder, I know," he responded aloud, tone dark and foreboding. "And I _don't_ fancy it."

Rose frowned. "Don't fancy what, exactly?"

He finished the zig-zag, side-stepped to stare into a monitor. "Being punched."

She drew a surprised breath, frown deepening. "What, cos you think he'd disapprove?"

"Yes. Of how long it took me to marry you."

A grin cracked the younger Doctor's freckled face, as he cottoned on to whom they were talking about. "Ooh hoo, now that'd be a sight."

The Doctor rounded on him. "He'd punch you _first_ , you know. Since it was your fault."

"What're they on about now?" asked Clara, exasperated, watching them glare at each other.

"Don't ask," said Rose, giggling. "What are we doing, by the way?"

"We're going to the National Gallery," the Doctor answered, typing in coordinates. "The Zygons are underneath it."

"No, UNIT HQ," Clara corrected. "They followed us to the Black Archive."

Jaw dropping, the Doctor looked at his wife. "What, the Black Archive? Really? And you didn't think that was worth a mention?"

"Got a bit distracted," she retorted, gesturing to the extra versions of him. "What's the big deal?"

"UNIT is going to destroy London," he said ominously, stepping to the next panel to hit a sequence of buttons. A low buzzing filled the space, and he spoke aloud. "Science leads, Kate. Is that what you meant? Is that what your father meant?"

Kate's reply was thin and distant. "Doctor? How are you doing that?"

"Space-Time Telegraph, Kate. A gift from me to your father, hotline straight to the TARDIS. I know about the Black Archive and I know about the security protocol. Kate, please. Please tell me you are not about to do something unbelievably stupid."

A minute or two passed as Doctor continued to argue with Kate, his gestures agitated and voice raising to a near shout at her stubborn refusal to switch off the timed nuclear detonation. It had Rose so tense she didn't register the small hands clutching at her jeans until Suzy made an unhappy sound.

"Oh, sweetheart," she murmured, lifting the baby and glancing at her watch. "Been over four hours already; I bet you're starving." In response, Suzy fisted a hand in Rose's shirt, tugging, her desire to be fed obvious. But Rose hesitated to nurse her; the conversation with UNIT's CSO grew increasingly heated. It was sounding more and more like they'd be running again any second.

"Kate, please, just listen to me!" shouted the Doctor, hands in the air, as the telegraph cut out. From under the hanging front lock of his hair, he looked at the others. "She refuses to switch off the detonation timer and she won't let us in there. Now what?"

"We don't need to land," the Doctor in leather stated with conviction, his gaze fixed on the console.

The pinstriped one rocked back on his heels. "Yeah, we do; tiny bit. Try and keep up."

"No, we don't. We don't. There is another way."

 _Stasis cube_ , she heard her husband realise, just as she too spotted the small cube of glimmering crystal that had appeared on the console. Suzy whinged again, louder. "Sorry, sweetheart," Rose soothed, and hurried to the cabinets under the stairs. In seconds she'd fetched a banana from the bin and peeled it, popping a small bit into her daughter's waiting mouth.

The Doctor was already on the phone. "Take a look at your phone and confirm who you're talking to," he demanded. "You were just talking to me. I know. I'm a time traveller, figure it out. I need you to send the Gallifrey Falls painting to the Black Archive. Understood?"

Ringing off, he straightened his bow-tie and smiled proudly at Rose.

"You geniuses," she said, smiling at each Doctor in turn. "We're going to jump into the cube and then out of the painting in the Black Archive?"

"No," said all three Time Lords at once. "Not you," added the one she was married to. "There are Daleks in that painting."

"And a nuclear warhead under UNIT HQ," added the Tenth, with worried eyes on Suzy. "Not to mention Zygons. You've got to keep her here, safe."

Biting her lip, Rose nodded. "Yeah, you're right."

The War Doctor looked troubled. "They're about to murder millions to save billions. They'll think it's justified."

"They're wrong," said the pinstriped one shortly.

The Doctor cupped her face. "I'll bring you back in as soon as it's safe," he promised, kissing her forehead and Suzy's before going to join the others near the cube on the console.

Rose followed, snatching at a suede coat sleeve before her brain caught up to her actions. "Wait." The younger Doctor twisted to face her, expressive brown eyes wide and wondering.

"Just..." Settling Suzy on a hip, she stretched her free hand up, fingertips motioning for him to bend forward. He mutely complied, gasping in surprise when she plunged a hand into his hair, raking the thick softness forward and back, swirling it with vigour.

"Much better," she pronounced with a grin, once it was thoroughly, properly mussed.

Mouth slack, the Doctor dazedly stared at her. So Rose licked her fingers and took further advantage, spiking the front strands of his hair just a tad higher. "There," she said, and with a small push to his shoulder got him to straighten. "Now those Zygon's'll know you mean business."

He nodded, glassy eyes sharpening into dark intent as they dropped to her lips. Rose's breath hitched, her heart speeding.

"Oi," an annoyed voice called out. "Bit of a time crunch here!"

With a cheeky wink, the pinstriped Doctor spun away, leaving a stunned Rose in his wake as he touched the stasis cube along with Clara and his other selves. In an instant, they winked away.

"Well," said Rose, shucking her jacket on her return to the jumpseat with Suzy. "That was..." Trailing off, she laughed at herself as she lifted her shirt to nurse her daughter. "Exciting."

* * *

"Not many people get to have dinner in a top-secret bunker," said Rose to Suzy as the Doctor led the way around a corner, into a smallish space cordoned off by tall, cluttered shelving and a wall full of photos. There was a rectangular table, occupied solely by the Doctor in brown- by his Chucks anyway, the scuffed trainers propped up at one end as he leaned back in his chair, long legs outstretched. Everyone else stood around, huddled in small groups. "Look, sweetie. We've got one Clara, two Kate's, two Osgood's, and three versions of your daddy tonight. Okay."

"It's weird, isn't it?" commented the Doctor happily, taking the baby from her.

Rose shrugged. "I've seen weirder."

Weird, but safe. The Time Lords had resolved the issue in triple-time, it seemed. Rose hadn't even finished feeding Suzy before the Doctor was wanting her to land their TARDIS outside the Tower.

"So they have no idea who's human and who's Zygon?" Rose asked him quietly, setting the small containers of baby food on the table. The younger Doctor scrambled to put his feet down.

The Doctor sat on a folding chair alongside his tenth self, settling Suzy on his lap. "Nope. It's a stalemate. But at least they're negotiating peacefully now."

As he pried the lid from a dish of cut-up carrots, his younger self watched, enthralled. "You might want to move back a bit, mate," the Doctor warned him, as his little girl stuck a hand in the bowl. "She'd rather throw these mushy bits than eat them, and she's got excellent aim."

A nervous voice interrupted. "Is...is she quite advanced?" Rose turned slightly, finding both Osgoods hovering just behind her.

"Sorry?"

"Er, well, you know," stuttered one. "Advanced for her age, as compared to human children? My sister- um, her little girl is nearly a year, and she says six words already, but I suppose your daughter...well. Says more than that?"

"Ah." Rose smiled, understanding. "The milestones for Gallifreyan children are...different, is all. Suzy can say a handful of words, but the Doctor says it will probably take her longer to become verbally proficient than it would were she fully human. But that's because she's telepathic. She doesn't need words to let us know what she wants."

Identical looks of fascination crossed the scientists' faces, like they were bursting with questions they didn't dare ask. Rose decided to indulge them a bit more. "A lot of it, though, we're not sure what to expect, have to see what happens as she grows. Maybe sometime when she's a bit older you and I could meet up, and you can see for yourself. Long as you bring your niece along so they can play, anyway."

"Oh..." The Osgood's shared a look, and after much hemming and hawing one spoke. "That's very kind, but you don't need to do that."

"Why not? Suzy'll need friends as she gets older. God knows I could use a few more friends myself."

Now the two were struck silent, and Rose sighed in good-natured exasperation. "C'mon, ladies, save it for Tom Hiddleston. I'm just a mum trying to set up a play date."

"Who's Tom Hiddleston?" replied the Osgoods in unison.

Giggling, Rose glanced over to check on her daughter. She nearly melted when she saw Suzy was now on the pinstriped Doctor's lap, trying to feed him a ragged-looking bite of chicken while her current Doctor looked on, hugely amused.

"You're a natural," she told him, as he cunningly dodged Suzy's next attempt and directed her hand toward her own mouth.

He looked up at her, a small smile on his lips. "Don't know, it all still feels a bit impossible to me. I gave up on our forever, Rose; how can you possibly be here?" His gaze fell to her hand. "Wedding ring on your finger, baby daughter-" Cutting off, he averted his eyes.

"You didn't give up on us, Doctor, you just...did the best you could." She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "And I know you've been alone, scared because you're about to change soon. But you have lots of things to look forward to, even before I come back. People who'll love you. Promise me you'll go find them, okay?"

He swallowed hard. "Okay."

Rose beamed at him, then caught a glimpse of something -someone- just beyond, through a small corner gap between two perpendicular sets of shelving. In the tucked away corner, the soldier Doctor slouched in a high-backed armchair, alone, a gloominess about him that immediately worried her.

Well, that just wouldn't do.

"So you've got the good chair," Rose commented, sinking onto the stool opposite his cushy leather armchair.

"I should, it's mine." He took a sip from his mug, dark eyes studying her. "Used to be in the TARDIS library, though it disappeared right around the time I got bored of wearing question marks. Do you have any idea how UNIT managed to nick it?"

Rose giggled, and the Doctor flashed her a genuine smile- a gorgeous smile which warmed her all over, like sunshine. "Question marks, yeah? So your seventh incarnation?"

His smile faded a little. "You certainly know a lot about me, my dear."

"Yes," she stated. "Though 'm not quite sure what face you're on now."

Rough fingers stroked at his beard. "It doesn't matter. This is the face I'll want to forget."

"I won't," she told him, low and certain. "I never will."

His gaze skittered past her for a few long moments, returned sharply. "Why are you the Bad Wolf?"

Now it was Rose's turn to be taken aback. "How could you possibly know about that?"

A resolute, very familiar stubbornness tightened his jaw, and Rose sighed.

"I'm the Bad Wolf because I love you," she said. "Because I want what's best for you."

A dismissive snort, the Doctor trying to hide his discomfort. "That's hardly an answer, girl. I can see you've picked up a few of my tricks."

"'S not a trick, it's the truth." She scooted closer, till their knees nearly touched. "I became Bad Wolf to save you- the next you, if you want specifics."

He fidgeted, bringing his mug to his lips. "I suppose I'll be a lot younger, like those two over there," he said into the cup. "All...pretty."

"Nope," Rose told him, and chuckled at his obvious surprise. "But that face is still my favourite, all the same. It's the face I fell in love with."

A long silence, and all the air left her lungs as his guarded expression softened into a vulnerable sort of disbelief, like wonder. "How...how can you love the killer of his own kind? The murderer of billions?"

There was a tremour in his voice, as if he were afraid his sins would make him lose her before he'd even got her, but...bigger than that. Much bigger.

His eyes were those of a soldier, wearied and hardened, but something...something was missing.

The shadows.

"Oh, my god," breathed Rose. "You haven't done it yet, have you? It's still in your future."

He glanced away. "You're very sure of yourself."

"He regrets it," said Rose earnestly, leaning in. "I've seen it in his eyes every day that I've known him. He'd do anything to change it, I know he would. Especially since our daughter was born."

"Anything to change it; including saving all these people. How many worlds has his regret saved, do you think? Look over there, humans and Zygons working in peace." Rose obeyed; looking back to the calm negotiations taking place. "How did you know?" she heard him ask, voice quiet.

"Your eyes." She touched his knee. "You're so much younger."

"Then, all things considered, it's time I grew up. I've seen all I needed. The moment has come." Looking at someone just past her, he spoke. "I'm ready."

Her head turned, following his line of sight to see who was there. No one.

She went to face him again. "Who were you talking to-"

He was gone.

* * *

"I told you," said Rose, though she sounded very uncertain. The Doctor turned, watching as his wife, carrying Suzy, cautiously stepped from the TARDIS to follow him and Clara into the dusty barn. Sunlight slanted in through irregular slats in the wood walls, making weird patterns over the straw-scattered dirt floor. "He hasn't done it yet."

Just ahead, the Warrior stood with his back to them, facing an ornate box topped with a ruby-like button. The sight of it pimpled the Doctor with gooseflesh. _The Moment._ Yes. He was sure of what it was, though he barely remembered this place.

The old man spoke without turning around. "Go away now, all of you. This is for me."

"These events should be time-locked," said Sandshoes, from where he stood in front of his own TARDIS. He squinted in confusion, looking exactly as disoriented as the Doctor felt. "We shouldn't be here; it's impossible. How did we get here, anyway? Also, weren't we busy in the archive, keeping London from being blown up- no, wait, scratch that, I've got a better question. _Why_ in blazes did we follow him? I thought we wanted him to leave-"

"Blimey," interrupted the Doctor loudly, "you _have_ got a gob. Shut up. Sometimes things that make no sense just happen. You aren't supposed to question it."

"Go back," commanded the Soldier again. "Go back to your lives. Go and be the Doctor that I could never be. Be with your Rose. Make it worthwhile." His hand lifted, came to rest on the glowing red button.

Rose came up, inserting herself between the Doctor and his younger self. "Help him," she requested quietly. Clara nodded in agreement, teary-eyed.

The two Time Lords made eye contact and nodded.

"All those years, burying you in my memory," said the Other, beginning a cautious approach.

"Pretending you didn't exist," the Doctor continued. "Keeping you a secret, even from myself."

"Pretending you weren't the Doctor, when you were the Doctor more than anybody else."

Coming up on the left, the Doctor faced his Warrior-self. "You were the Doctor on the day it wasn't possible to get it right."

Pinstripes was on the right. "But this time-"

"You don't have to do it alone," the Doctor concluded. He laid his hand atop the aged, calloused one already on the button, and then a long-fingered hand added itself to the stack. The three of them, for once in agreement. This had to be done.

The Warrior gazed at their piled hands. "Thank you." Then his brows drew together and he glanced back toward Rose and Suzy. "Please," he said to Rose, voice strained. "Take her back in the TARDIS. I...I don't want my daughter to see me do this."

Though in full agreement with his younger self on this point, the Doctor did not say so. As it was, the compassion coming from his wife was so fierce he could barely handle it.

Predictably, she came forward, determination in her every line. "Doctor, you're doing this so she _has_ a future. So the universe does."

The skinny one took a resolute breath. "What we do today is not out of fear or hatred. It is done because there is no other way."

"And it is done in the name of the many lives we are failing to save," added the Doctor. Hollow words, but they were the best he could do. It was so impossible, so hopeless. Even his conviction that it was the better of two evils did little to comfort him, and he _hated_ having Suzy here. All that kept him from shouting to have the baby taken out was knowing she was too small to remember.

He'd remember, though. Far too clearly this time around.

Sudden darkness fell, like an approaching storm.

"What's happening?" gasped Clara, as scenes of chaos surrounded them.

"Nothing," the Warrior reassured. "It's a projection."

 _Yes, but it was real, somewhere,_ thought the Doctor, holding Rose close as they sheltered Suzy between them. Her little head lay nestled on Rose's chest and Rose covered her one exposed ear with a hand, trying to muffle the sounds of explosions and gunfire. More than once, a mother and child went dashing for cover, as precious to someone as his own girls were to him. It was his worst nightmare come to life and the Doctor couldn't look away.

A horrified voice rang out. "These are the people you're gonna burn?"

"Clara!" hissed Rose reproachfully.

His tenth self sounded mournful. "There isn't anything we can do."

"He's right," said the Doctor, dragging a hand down his face. "There isn't another way; there never was. Either I destroy my own people or let the universe burn."

Suzy let out a small whimper, and it almost did him in when he realised these horrific scenes were all she'd ever see of her people, the breaths she took now the only ones that would ever fill her lungs with Gallifrey's air. Struggling not to break down, he fished the sonic from his coat and gave it to his daughter to distract her.

"What are you doing?!" Ten exclaimed. "She'll hurt herself with that!"

"It has a childlock," he informed him with an eye-roll. "I added it to the new case."

Suzy began to gnaw on the screwdriver, and the Doctor picked up on his other self's continued dismay that he'd ever allow such a thing, dangerous or no. Well, the sonic wasn't the only thing to change a bit with the baby's arrival; he had too. Improvements, all.

 _Same software, different case._

As idea, brilliant and golden, flashed into his brain. "That's it!" he exclaimed, snatching Suzy from Rose and tossing her with a gleeful laugh. He looked at the others. "I know how to do it! We can save Gallifrey for her!"

The war images vanished.

Pinstripes stared at him like he'd gone mad. "You're not actually suggesting that we change our own personal history?"

"We change history all the time," said the Doctor with a grin, spinning around with his daughter. "I'm suggesting far worse."

"What, exactly?" asked the Soldier.

"Gentlemen, I have had four hundred years to think about this," he went on, as the idea solidified into a fully-formed plan. "I've changed my mind." Carefully extricating the sonic from his daughter's damp hands, he wiped it on his trousers before aiming it at the Moment. The jewel-like button retracted into the box.

Relief filled the room.

"There's still a billion billion Daleks up there, attacking," the youngest one pointed out helpfully.

"Yeah, there is. There is."

Number Ten's face scrunched, and the Doctor knew the download had begun. "But there's something those billion billion Daleks don't know," he said, eyes widening.

The Doctor marched toward his TARDIS. "Because if they did, they'd probably send for reinforcements."

"What?" gasped Clara, scrambling to keep up. "What don't they know?"

"This time, there's three of us," said the Doctor, grinning at her.

"Oh!" the Warrior cried in realisation. "Oh, yes, that is good. That is brilliant!"

"Oh, oh, oh, I'm getting that too!" In one great leap, Sandshoes high-fived the TARDIS. "That is brilliant!

Their shared joy sparkled like champagne in his veins, and the Doctor laughed out loud. "I've been thinking about it for centuries," he told Rose meaningfully. _I'll explain in a mo'._

"She didn't just show me any old future," said the Warrior in wonder. "She showed me exactly the future I needed to see."

Now the Doctor was puzzled. "Eh? Who did?"

The old man gazed into the air, a bright grin on his face. "Oh, Bad Wolf girl, I could kiss you!"

The Doctor heard Rose gasp, and then remembrance slammed into him like a freight train. Bad Wolf -the Moment's conscience, in Rose's form- it all came back with crystal clarity, and then...he knew. This plan of his; it wasn't about to change anything, not one single instant. Whatever happened after this- it was what had always happened.

"Yes, yes, he said Bad Wolf," he told the Other impatiently, who was still gaping like a fish over the comment. "Settle down."

"What are we doing?" asked Clara. "What's the plan?"

The Warrior took a breath. "The Dalek fleets are surrounding Gallifrey, firing on it constantly."

"The Sky Trench is holding," added Ten, pausing dramatically. "But what if the whole planet just disappeared?"

Clara's big eyes got bigger. "Tiny bit of an ask."

"The Daleks would be firing on each other. They'd destroy themselves in their own crossfire."

The grey-haired Doctor smiled. "Gallifrey would be gone, the Daleks would be destroyed, and it would look to the rest of the universe as if they'd annihilated each other."

"But where would Gallifrey be?" Rose asked, sounding breathless.

"Frozen," Pinstripes said gleefully. "Frozen in an instant of time, safe and hidden away."

"Exactly," agreed the Doctor.

The Warrior's eyes gleamed. "Like a painting."

* * *

"All right, explain," commanded Clara, as the Doctor began to circle the console. It was just the four of them again, the other two Doctors having taken off in their own time-ships.

Rose set Suzy in her portable cot and turned, hands on her hips. "Agreed. What exactly are you three crazy aliens doing?"

"Bit of a detour," he said distractedly, hands in frenetic motion.

Chuckling, Rose shook her head and looked at Clara. "He gets full points for dodgin' the question."

The TARDIS shuddered, then stilled.

"Not 'us three'," said the Doctor, taking Rose's hand. "Us twelve." He got a faraway look in his eyes. "Yes, twelve. At least. Clara, can you keep an eye on Suzy for a minute?"

Clara sighed, then saluted, and the Doctor dragged Rose outside.

Earth, mid-afternoon judging by the sun's brightness, and- "A junkyard?"

As he yanked the door shut Rose faced him, halting any forward progress. "Okay, love. I know whatever you've got going on here, it's urgent, but you have time to take a breath and explain it to your poor wife, yeah?"

"Sorry," he said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "But..." His gaze traveled past her and Rose turned to see what he was looking at.

Near a high wood fence, surrounded by piles of metal scrap, sat a bright blue police box. "Oh my god, we're meeting another you?"

He grinned. "Yes. The first me. He's the first part of the plan. Doctor One, he's step one, got to initiate things with the initial me-"

"Okay," she interrupted, laughing. "I get the point. But why?"

"Remember what I said to you, that I've been planning this for centuries? Well, that's true, it's literally true. I've got to telepathically implant the idea in the first me, set it as a permanent sub-routine in my memory, to arise in each life at just the right time. All of me, every incarnation, has to take part in this if it's going to have a prayer of working."

"So that's why the others were...cottoning on? Cos you did this- put it in their heads?"

"Yes, and that's also why I thought of it in the first place," he added, then grimaced. "Causality loop. Don't try and think about that one too hard."

Rose stroked a thumb over his left dimple. "Well, get on with it. But what do you need me along for?"

The Doctor dipped his face to hers, eyes glinting. "For fun. Now, go on. Knock on the door, and when a grumpy old man answers, be sure to introduce yourself as his future wife."

* * *

Sweet, blessed quiet. The stakes had never been higher but they'd won, Rose was sure. There was no half-hidden anxiety, no real doubts, as the lot of them stood around, having tea in a private room at the National Gallery. The air was only peaceful and buoyant and light, and she basked in it.

"I don't suppose we'll know if we actually succeeded," said the Doctor in leather, breaking a long silence. "But at worst, we failed doing the right thing, as opposed to succeeding in doing the wrong."

"Life and soul, you are," chuckled Clara.

Cup held aloft, the Doctor in pinstripes studied the room's single piece of art, the painting from his home that had led to this unexpectedly glorious outcome. "What is it actually called?" he wondered aloud.

"Well, there's some debate," replied the Doctor, hair flopping over his forehead as he glanced down at Suzy, her dark lashes fanned against rosy cheeks as she slept soundly in his arms. Three TARDIS's stood in a proud line at his back. "Either 'No More', or 'Gallifrey Falls'."

"Not very encouraging," muttered the Soldier into his own mug. After draining it, he looked around at them all. "Well, gentlemen, it has been an honour and a privilege."

Ten nodded at him. "Likewise."

"Doctor," said Eleven, pointedly re-bestowing his name.

The youngest Doctor smiled as brushed a gentle hand over his future daughter's hair. "See you later, precious girl." He looked up. "Take good care of her."

"Of course."

After accepting a hug from Clara, he turned to Rose, and the soft warmth in his eyes made her heart skip. "I believe I'll see you rather soon."

"Don't forget to ask me twice," she murmured, palming his weathered cheek.

"Right," her current Doctor added. "And be patient. Things might...well, take longer than you might think. Don't ever give up."

Rose lifted up on her toes, impulsively pressing a lingering kiss to his dear old face. His skin was softer than she expected, and afterward he touched his fingers to the spot. "I won't remember this, will I?"

"The time streams are out of sync," replied the Doctor. "You can't retain it, no."

"So I won't remember that I tried to save Gallifrey rather than burn it. I'll have to live with that. But for now, for this moment, I am the Doctor again. Thank you." Taking a breath, he scanned the row of time-ships. "Which one is mine?" he joked, going into the shabbiest one.

As it wheezed and faded, Clara looked at the Doctor as if something had just occurred to her. "How did you get all your past selves involved in this, again?"

"Like I said before, Clara Oswald. Some things defy explanation."

* * *

"I won't remember either," Skinny was saying. "So you might as well tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"How Rose came back." He leaned against his TARDIS, arms folded, though his intent gaze on her belied his casual pose. "How you're married to her now without everything having gone wrong. And," he went on, straightening again as his eyes fell on Suzy, "how this _baby_ happened."

The Doctor smirked, saucily. "Right, okay, well. It's hard to pinpoint such things, you know, but I do have a guess. So there was this ball I'd arranged for us to go to, nineteenth century, royal court and everything, only we didn't exactly get there because Rose came out wearing this-"

"Oi!" the Tenth cut in, freckled face gone bright red. "That's not, that's not- you know I meant the genetic compatibility! Or, more specifically, lack thereof!"

A throat cleared. " _Anyway_..." said Clara to the Doctor, sliding an arm under Suzy to carefully lift her limp form from his arms. "How bout I go put her to bed for you, yeah? Then you lot can talk." On her way to the TARDIS, she paused in front of the Doctor in brown and smiled up at him. "I loved meeting you. And like I said before, that's a really great suit."

"Thank you," he said, lifting her hand to kiss it. Then he touched Suzy's cheek. "Goodnight, dear one." His eyes followed the baby till the ship's door closed.

All at once, a panicked look crossed Rose's face. "I almost forgot- what are we going to do about the Queen? That's still a paradox!"

A smug smile from Pinstripes, all dimples. "Nope, it's resolved. I made a bit of a detour, earlier."

"What?" said the Doctor, annoyed, even though he'd done the same thing himself. "To do what?"

"Wellll, let's just say there's a portrait in your TARDIS that you'll need to deliver. Along with this," he said, pulling a creamy white note from his pocket and handing it to Rose. She flipped it over and sure enough, there was the telltale wax seal. Unbroken.

Paradox averted, apparently. The Doctor was no less annoyed. " _You_ wrote the letter? Why?"

"Well, as discussed, the Queen certainly wasn't about to."

"I get that, but if you wrote it, why all the stupid love talk? That nearly got us in a lot of trouble!"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," he drawled, eyes on Rose. "Besides, I had to write it like that because I did."

"No, no no no no no." The Doctor pointed at him. "You did it to win points with Rose. Because you knew she'd be all happy with you for risking a paradox for her!"

"Well, she's all happy with you too," he shot back, one eyebrow arched, "so why are you complaining? You should be thanking me, since I have to leave while you reap all the rewards!"

"That's true," said Rose, and oh, the Doctor did not like the way she was nibbling a pinky-nail and making eyes at his prior self. "It's really a bit unfair."

"For getting out of a mess he shouldn't have got into in the first place, oh yeah. Why shouldn't he be rewarded for that?"

"Glad you agree," he said, and in a flurry long limbs and sticky-up hair he moved in on Rose, his mouth slanting firmly over hers before the Doctor could mount any sort of protest.

Fists clenching, the Doctor managed one step forward before his knees buckled, the gasping memory surfacing to haul him under. And then he was reliving -in vivid, intimate detail- that _first_ , first kiss with Rose.

His shopgirl; her lips urgent and needy against his, similar to the Queen's kiss but in every way superior. Because it wasn't about technique for him, not ever. The heat of her tongue, the give of her bottom lip under his teeth, it had him trembling, but due only to the deep well of emotion that fueled it all. Long-suppressed, aching _love_ , finding its outlet at last.

And knowing this first kiss would not be the _last_ gave him power. Fears, empty years, none of what awaited him mattered anymore, not with such a reward due him at the end.

At last they parted, and the Doctor returned to the present. The pair stood only feet away, tangled in each other with foreheads touching, but he was hard-pressed to muster up a speck of jealousy. All he felt was impatience, a keen urge driving him to get Rose back to the TARDIS, because he'd waited centuries to take that kiss further.

The other Doctor stole one last kiss, murmuring against her lips. "I don't want to go."

Rose stroked his sideburn, slowly drew away. "Your future is waiting."

He smiled. And as he ducked into his TARDIS, it seemed, for once, like he was actually looking forward to it.

As the ship disappeared Rose turned to him, silently inclining her head toward their own TARDIS. The Doctor mustered up a pout for her benefit. "Oh, so everybody gets kissed today but me?"

"Excuse me, you're the only person who's been kissed." She sauntered his way, stroked a slow finger down the length of his jaw. "Not my fault you're so slow on the followthrough."

Growling, he bent her back with a hand between her shoulder-blades, his mouth finding hers with practiced ease.

But too soon, a cough penetrated his ears. The Doctor broke the kiss, peering toward the source of the sound with half-lidded eyes. A young woman, smartly dressed with her long dark hair in a high ponytail, stood just inside the room's entrance, a small smile on her lips.

"Oh, 'm sorry," Rose rushed to say. "We didn't know anyone was in here."

"Don't worry about it," replied the woman. Her smile went wide, uniquely bright and familiar, and on seeing it, the Doctor's hearts nearly gave out. "It's nothing I haven't seen a million times before."

Rose gasped. "You're..."

"The Curator," she filled in smoothly. "I heard you were curious about this painting. I acquired it in remarkable circumstances. What do you make of the title?"

"Which title?" The Doctor managed, without flailing too much. "There's two. 'No More', or 'Gallifrey Falls'."

"Oh, you see, that's where everybody's wrong. It's all one title. Gallifrey Falls No More. Now, what would you think that means?"

"...that Gallifrey didn't fall. It worked. It's still out there."

Her tongue grazed an incisor, cheekily, and the Doctor nearly passed out. "I'm only the curator. I'm sure I wouldn't know."

"Oh, I know you've been there," cried Rose, tired of the pretense. She ran to her, and swept the slightly taller girl into a hug. "My darling, don't think I don't know you, no matter how old you are."

"Hello, Mum," said Suzy, eagerly hugging back before turning to the Doctor. "Daddy."

It was his turn to grab her up, and he closed his eyes, felt the double thump of her hearts against his. "My beautiful girl," he whispered against her hair. "Beautiful, and so clever." Keeping one arm round her waist, he turned them to face the painting. "Where is it, love?"

"Lost," she replied, brown eyes sparkling. "Perhaps. Oh, you have a lot to do."

"Do I?" he said, a huge smile forming. "Is that what I'm supposed to do now? Go looking for Gallifrey?"

"Well..." Suzy hedged, fiddling with an earring. "I think Donna will be so sad if you don't. She absolutely adores the hats."

"Donna?" he squeaked. "You can't mean Donna Noble. Can you? Or," he prattled on, as a second (equally unlikely) possibility hit him, "do you by chance, perhaps, have a... a ginger younger sister?"

Suzy merely raised a sculpted brow, her smile enigmatic, and well. He wasn't even bothered. Somehow, even his own maddening tricks were cute when employed by his little girl.

"You heard her," he said, taking Rose's elbow without breaking eye contact with Suzy. "Lots to do. Best get on with it, eh?"

"What, you want to go find your planet now? We've only just hid it!"

"No, no. Far too tired for that. But, not even close to tired enough to get started on something equally important."

Rose was genuinely confused. "Like what?"

He nodded toward their daughter. "Her little sister, for one."

Suzy's entire face scrunched, and she groaned, disgusted. _"Daddy!"_

The Doctor grinned, tweaking his bow-tie in victory.

Yep. Definitely a successful day.


End file.
